


Runs in The Family

by PH4NT0MHQ



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abandonment, Clay | Dream and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Character Death, Mom Cara | CaptainPuffy, Parent Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Referenced Manhunts, Smoking, Teenage Parents, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PH4NT0MHQ/pseuds/PH4NT0MHQ
Summary: The ring on his doorbell echoed through the small house, a tool so rarely used that sometimes he forgot he had it. He glanced at his friend who sat beside him on the beat up orange couch he'd had for years, the only person he could recall actually knew his address.And so he stood, hesitantly, and approached the door with the same level of caution one would have while avoiding a stray Enderman in the woods. He opened the door, a box on his doorstep with a small child rested inside, not more than a year old, with nothing but a small bee plush clenched in it's tiny fist.He almost closed the door on the sleeping form.[ Or the one in which the Schlatt family is fucking struggling ]
Relationships: (referenced), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

The world all at once seemed like a very bleak place. There was nothing tethering him to the earth, he was floating, up into the sky to become one with the dark clouds overhead, let the thunder roll into his chest and lie there. But no, that would have been nice, that would have been easier. Life wasn't nice to him, it wasn't easy. All he had instead was the old ceiling of his shitty apartment and the clouds puffing out of his mouth after a long drag from his cigarette. 

A hand on his shoulder brought him back down, a question in the gaze that followed him. Concern etched into eyebrows so frequently hid by dark hair and a beanie. He didn't know how he was going to make it through this one, he was barely holding himself together, he couldn't support the weight of another person. He was barely pushing 21 and had been on his own for 6 years now, trying so hard to not only support himself but the kid that had been dumped on him by an ex when he was only 16. 

Life was a cruel joke, and he could swear he was the punchline. 

He knew he wasn't alone though, he had his best friend to help, only a few years younger than himself. They'd been all the other had for as long as they could really remember.

How could he end up in this situation again? He swore he'd learnt his lesson the last time. Maybe he drank too much. If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was that his boy was staying over at a friend's house for the night. 

"What are we gonna do?" Was the first sound he'd heard in hours, either because the fear of what was happening took away all noise, or simply because he'd gotten so lost in his own head that he couldn't hear his friend speaking to him until now.

"I really don't know, Alex. You know I can barely keep shit together with Clay." He dropped his cigarette into the ashtray that lay on the dark oak coffee table, letting the rest of it burn away on its own. 

"It wouldn't hurt to call Cara." Was all he heard next before getting trapped in his mind again. He hated calling his sister for help. The last time he had, it was when a one year old Clay had shown up on his doorstep with only a note to indicate what the fuck was going on. She'd had a kid of her own around the same time, a little girl named Caroline that he'd only met a handful of times. 

Maybe she could take care of Clay for a bit while he sorted out this new mess he'd gotten himself into. 

He picked up his makeshift phone.

—————

It took only about a day for her to arrive at his small apartment, little Caroline in tow as she came to check out what the hell was going on. 

Clay was ecstatic to see his cousin again, although anyone would probably assume they were twins, from the blond hair to the freckled skin and the small nubs growing out of their heads. He was glad there was something to distract the kids while he spoke to his older sister alone.

There, in the crib that used to hold his oldest boy, was a baby with no name, only a small plush bee held tightly in his tiny fist. 

"Jesus, Johnny, what the hell did you get yourself into?" He broke, with no answer to give her, only the most vulnerable admission of being afraid of what all this meant for him. 

"He showed up in the doorstep yesterday, Cara. I was just hanging out with Q while Clay was over at a friends house when the doorbell rang. Whoever left him there was gone before I could see who they were." He slumped into his beat up orange couch, head in his hands as the weight of it all came crashing down on him once again. He needed help, the one thing he loathed to ask for. 

"What do you need, Johnny? I'll help as much as I can." She said softly, sitting down beside him. They hadn't been very close, her being a few years older than him growing up, but she always took care of him. On nights when the shouting of their parents kept him awake, or when the smell of cigarettes and alcohol permeated the walls and left them both with a stickiness under their skin that left them feeling grimy no matter how much they washed. When they were kicked out, she was always there to help him out, support him when she was probably struggling to support herself. 

She'd already done so much for him.

"I can't take care of two kids, Cara, you know I'm barely keeping it together with Clay." If she could hear the shake in his voice, she didn't say anything about it. He knew though, if he looked her in the eyes, he'd see it. The sadness that riddled them.

"I'm about to head out on the ship again for a few months, I can postpone for a bit to help you get sorted?" He was happy for her, really, that she'd found her calling. His own sister, grown up to be a great pirate. She was cool, Captain Puffy they called her, a nickname he'd given her when they played pretend as kids, he could never help the smile that made its way to his face when he recalled the day she told him of the new name. 

Her ship, the Jolly Duckling, was one of Clay's favourite places, he'd always beg to visit whenever Cara was in town. He had an idea.

"No no, actually, would you mind taking Clay with you? It's been a lot time since he's gotten to hang out with Caroline, and you know how much he loves the ship." She blinked at him for a minute, before breaking out into a smile. 

"Of course, I'll take the little duckling with me, check in with me regularly though, and let me know when I should bring him back and I'll be on my way, okay? You'll get through this." She was too good, far too kind. But he knew that Clay would be in good, safe hands with her. He'd be happy, thriving. 

Cara stayed for a while, helping Clay pack, all excited to spend time on the sea with his aunt. As the 6 year old hugged him goodbye, part of him knew it would be the last time.

He didn't call.

—————

Cara watched as Clay and Caroline unpacked all his things, she'd had him pack up everything he had, so that he wouldn't miss anything during his months with her, he'd be going back eventually, but missing things in the meantime would suck. The kid didn't have many things anyways. 

There were two beds in the room Caroline and Clay would share, the room split down the middle with a large curtain so the two could have at least a modicum of privacy. They seemed excited enough, running around the ship to say hi to all the crew mates and look out over the water at the fish bobbing up to the surface. Cara knew a day would come soon where Clay would miss his dad, but right now, he was happy, and that's what mattered. 

She looked out over the water too, then over to the land as the ship cast off, toward the direction she knew she was leaving her brother. He'd be okay, he was strong, they'd both been through so much and only come out with nothing but a few scars.

Things would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barely a man, oh so alone.

Raising a baby was fucking hard, probably the most difficult thing a person could do in their life, none the less doing it twice. Whoever wanted to say it got easier the second time was a fucking liar and this exhausted father wanted to punch them in the goddamn head. 

Despite all the help he got from Alex, this new kid, Toby as he'd named him, was a lot more of a handful than Clay ever was. It was obvious from early on that the kid had a small speech impediment, stuttering over all his words, even the most simple ones, he'd been assured that Toby would grow out of it with time and practice, but as of now communicating with him was the hardest thing. 

They'd developed a makeshift sign language, one tap for attention, two for food or drink, and three for the bathroom, the most basic rundown for a two year old to understand, anything else they'd struggle through to figure out together. (Or with a dejected call to Alex who somehow understood everything.)

The easiest part was to get Toby to start walking. As soon as his little legs were strong enough to hold up his own weight, he'd started zooming around the house, wanting to look at and touch everything. 

He learnt pretty quickly to keep his ashtrays up high and out of reach. 

Things got harder when Alex had to leave the area for family business back home. He roughly new the coordinates of the area, and it was a weeks travel on foot to get there. 

He didn't hear from Alex for a while.

Part of him thought that maybe his best friend was dead.

—————

Back when Clay was around three, he'd stayed with Alex for about a month. The younger man was exhausted, but happy to help, knowing that his friend's trip was super important, not only for survival, but for taking care of Clay.

There was a name popular around a lot of the villages the two friends had stumbled across in their travels, Philza. He was a skilled fighter and survivalist, and hero to many villages in the thousands of miles that stretched out from where he was said to currently be located. Not only that, but he had two children of his own, a set of twins only a little older than Clay. 

The trek to the man's house took him two days, at night he was welcomed into small villages to keep safe from the thousands of undead creatures who roamed the expanse of fields with only one desire. Flesh. 

Upon the final arrival, he explained his plight, a teenage father with no real survival skills and a child he had no idea how to take care of. The man, who despite being much older than himself, was about half a foot shorter, with dark black wings hung loosely from his shoulder blades. 

He'd heard of those who could fly once, a story told to him by his older sister one night when he was a child and the shouting of their parents was too much to bear. 

The man was kind, and over their months work together, he finally learnt how to properly wield a sword, when to shield and when to charge, as well as what to do when your kid is crying, and how to support them as they grew up.

Raising a child was sacrifice. That was a concept that sat with him, that scared him.

—————

Six years later, and he was knocking on the once familiar door.

He was tired, he was worn out, he hadn't been able to eat or sleep in days. Things got rough in his area, his closest village had been ransacked by pillagers, leaving all but one alive, who managed to flee to the next one over. 

There went his steady food supply.

He'd tried to tend to his own farm, go out hunting for cows and pigs nearby, but there was nothing for miles, he wouldn't be able to make it home before the zombies and skeletons came out.

Any food he managed went straight to Toby.

So he knocked on the oak wood door, worn out and sun bleached over the years, but still standing strong. The door was opened by a kid he recognized, had grown over the years, brown hair longer and messier since their last interaction. 

"Hey, Will." There was a tired smile in his voice, the smile didn't actually reach his face.

The kid called for his dad. 

He was welcomed into the house without fuss, he'd been promised once that if he ever needed anything, he could come back. 

He explained the situation.

Phil had laughed at the irony of it all, somehow having a kid left on his doorstep again. He was fond of Toby though, the kid instantly befriending Phil's newest and youngest kid Tommy. 

When the kids were gone though, tucked into their beds, he let the true weakness show, that he hadn't been eating, sleeping, he was a worn out man who couldn't do this anymore. 

Phil was nice, he offered to take care of Toby, give them both a place to stay, he'd help, whatever he needed, Phil would help.

Phil left him at the small dining table with his thoughts, turning in for the night and suggesting that he do the same. The guest room was the same as it had always been. 

There was a noise from his pocket though, on look at the small device was his hail Mary. 

He answered the phone, and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i don't usually do author's notes but like ;-; wow the response of the first chapter was amazing, i am literally blown away, so thank you !!
> 
> uh if you wanna catch me on twitter my @ is k_odzukens ! i dont use it a whole bunch but i do talk about mcyt sometimes
> 
> that's all i really had to say, thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed the second chapter !


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The wind was raging, rain beating down on the deck of the ship as if it had been personally offended by the dark oak's existence. In his 8 years of living on the Jolly Duckling, Clay had never seen the weather so turbulent, so violent, so terrifying. He knew how to fight, Cara and the other crew mates had been sure to teach him and Caroline as they grew up. He was good with an axe especially, but he knew he could be better.

But there was no way to fight a storm. 

The thunder and lighting charged overhead, drowning out the cries of all the men above deck. 

He didn't need to hear them to know that they weren't dealing with just a storm. 

Dozens of drowneds, armed with their tridents, were striking them down.

So he fought, brandishing his axe and shield and taking them down, watching them disintegrate into piles of rotten flesh one by one. He was numb from the cold, focused on the fight, the whizz of his axe slicing through the air drowning out all else that went on around him.

All but one feeble cry to his right. 

Then everything stopped, there were no distant cries or metallic clinks of tridents hitting armour, there was only his sister in his arms, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from her stomach where she'd been stabbed with a trident, the water all around them doing nothing but easing the flow of blood out of her poor body. 

Her eyes were closed. 

She breathed. 

Then there was everything, the ongoing battle, a female cry from behind him the clattering of boots. A hand on his shoulder, arms surrounding him. 

"Get her below deck, Clay, quickly, we don't have much time. There should be healing potions in a barrel somewhere." 

The world was nothing but a blur as he picked up his sister's dying body and brought her down to their shared room, he sat by her side as Cara went to find the healing potions.

There wasn't time. 

He cried and begged to whatever god could possibly be out there, begging for her life to be spared. 

"Duckling..." He heard her voice from behind him, then a hand on his shoulder, a hug enveloping him.

"Mama..." 

And they cried, they held each other and cried, mourning the poor girl that had lost her life too soon.

Something Clay hardened that day, a stone casing surrounding his heart, as he vowed to himself to never let this happen again. 

—————

The wind flew by as his heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he ran, ran as fast as he possibly could. 

Two boys followed closely behind him, one older and one younger than himself, both attempting to take him down before he could complete his mission. 

This was something they had been doing once a month for about a year now, training endlessly to improve each of their individual skills. They hadn't yet managed to catch him.

"Come on, Clay! Let us get one win!" He heard the voice through the communication system another friend had built for them.

"Please, Clay? You always win!" Came another voice, this time heavy with a British accent.

"No way!" He laughed. "You want a win? Earn it!" Then he dove off a cliff and straight into the ocean, quickly being picked up by some dolphins who helped him swim faster. 

—————

Three days later, Clay found himself outside of the Woodland Mansion he had been hunting for this time, entering through the open doorway before his two friends had the chance to catch him once again. 

The place was quiet, and he felt the eyes of Vindicators watching him as he walked through the halls, their iron axes at the ready if he needed to use them. He had been there before, and been greeted with much more hostility than now. He had enrober meeting with a Summoner, who had requested some items from the Nether for him to fetch, as well as information from a Stronghold that was located around 100 miles away. The trip had taken him three months on foot, all while he was chased around by his two friends who helped him train through all his quests. 

He didn't necessarily want to be going on all these dangerous trips, but he had to if he wanted the Summoner's help. 

With all the information gathered finally, the Summoner was able to perform the ritual he had requested. It would take time, so he elected to wait outside.

Outside the mansion, his two friends lay in the grass, winded from all the running, exhausted from the little sleep they had gotten. He joined the two of them, enjoying the warm sun and the comfort of his best friends.

If anything went wrong, this could be the last time he saw them. The last time his world was normal. 

"Are you nervous?" The British boy questioned from beside him, turning on his side to look at his blond friend. 

"Kind of, summoning a demon isn't exactly every day business. I think I'll be okay though." He knew of lesser demons, demons of fire who had mated with humans and watered down the demonic heritage of children today who weren't entirely human. Demons of Nether origin weren't uncommon, the pointed ears and fire resistance of his other friend only proved that point. 

Demons of The End were a different story.

"We've been working towards this for the past year, making sure everything would go completely fine." The other boy had consoled, the British boy nodding along in agreement.

"Thanks, Sapnap, I know. This is finally it though, there's no turning back from here." He looked back at the entrance, then toward the wall he knew the preparations were happening behind. 

"We'll be here no matter what, Clay." The British boy smiled, reaching his hand to grasp Clay's softly, always better with physical affection and comfort than verbal. 

Their possible final time together was cut short as the Summoner stood in the doorway, beckoning him inside as the preparations were finally complete. 

He was led to the centre of the Summoner's work room, walls lined with bookshelves filled with ancient books, scriptures and texts in languages Clay didn't understand. On the floor lay a summoning circle which greatly resembled an Ender Eye, with several symbols he recognized from the few times he had used an enchanting table. 

He was ordered to stay still as the ritual began, that under no circumstance could he step outside of the circle. 

As the Summoner began to mutter in a language he didn't understand, the lines on the floor began to shine green, as if a portal was opening beneath him. The nauseating feeling he got every time he went through a Nether portal overtook him. He watched as the Summoner threw an Ender Eye over his head, which then hung there for a moment, then shattered, the dust falling into his fair and onto his shoulders. 

Then, he was blinded, and a voice rang through his head, ringing his ears and making him feel as if he were about to pass out.

"Hello." The voice said. "You may call me Dream." 

A black smiley face burned behind his retinas, then he fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back ! i know some of this may be a bit confusing, but hold on ! it will be explained more later ! for now all you need to know is that dream is about 14 in this chapter, has been living with captain puffy for about 8 years, and has largely forgotten that schlatt is his dad. oh and dristas dead, that's gonna get explained more later, but hey ! george and sapnap amiright ? manhunts canon cause i said so
> 
> yes this is also the origin of the dreamons


	4. Chapter 4

It had been weeks, weeks of endless driving. His older brother sat in the front seat, eyes focused on the dirt road, narrowly avoiding trees at times. Beside him lay his somewhat younger brother, his best friend, asleep soundly on the mattress they shared in the back of the van. 

What led them here was a series of very unfortunate events. 

The eldest of the brothers had decided he wanted to travel on his own, leaving home to pursue his dreams of being the greatest fighter. 

Their dad had left too about a month later, which no real explanation, leaving the pair of fourteen year olds with the younger twin of the older brothers. 

Things had gotten bad in their area, after a zombie hoard and a creeper infestation, blowing part of the family home apart, the final three were forced to flee, to pack as much as they could into the van the eldest had repaired a few years prior and look for somewhere new. 

Home wasn't safe anymore.

Home wasn't home anymore.

—————

It took another week of driving and living out of the van before they found somewhere. 

A somewhat small but expanding land that had been discovered by a mysterious man named Dream and some of his friends. 

The eldest had arranged privately for the younger two to be able to live within the lands, allowing them to build houses of their own. 

Then he was gone too, off in his van to who knows where. 

—————

It was nights like this one where he wondered where the eldest had gone most. The nights when his best friend woke from nightmares, nights where his brother wandered into his home and his room with a vulnerability in blue eyes. 

"I'm sure Wilbur will come back soon, Tommy." He would console, offering the other space and comfort and as much reassurance as he could. It was hard to know if it was enough.

It probably wasn't.

—————

Dream was a weird guy he had decided, a little too involved in everything. A little too knowing. The darkness in the smile barely visible behind a threatening mask of a simple smiley face. 

That was the face he saw in his own nightmares. 

Dream kept his appearance hidden for the most part, his face behind a mask and the rest of his head covered by a hood, the only discernable thing about him being the horns that grew out of the side of his head, their shape not masked by the green hood of his sweater.

They looked like his own would once his grew more.

He didn't think too much of it as he hit the man with his axe for the final time, causing him to disappear in a pile of smoke, securing the safety of his best friend's most prized possessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter update from tubbos perspective cause i don't like having two perspectives in one chapter ! the next one will be from schlatts perspective !
> 
> keep in mind that this doesn't necessarily follow canon, and has to find explanations for many referenced things that don't suit minecraft mechanics, and some minecraft mechanics that don't align with how a realistic setting would work ! 
> 
> context for the van: my general theory is that cars and other transportation does exist, but is a remainder from "the old world" and must be repaired in order to function again (hence them being built out of blocks) so the camarvan is actually a functioning vehicle that wilbur found abandoned one day and repaired 
> 
> anyways catch me on twitter k_odzukens if you want to !


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cursed by horns of the father and the weight they carry.

For the past few years, he lived a decent life, he'd left his past behind him and moved somewhere new, over to where a few friends had settled not too long ago. 

The first year he thought about the kids he'd left behind him, he'd let the guilt gnaw at his bones and drive him to meet the darkest parts of himself, negativity welling up in his mind. He'd had friends to drown out his sorrows with though. Good distractions, there was rarely a dull moment. 

He'd partied, he'd drink and get high until the sun came up and then crash into his bed before the thoughts of being alone crowded him and snuffed out all the light. He'd sleep through the day and then do it all again. 

He'd made a name for himself, working with friends to create an enchanting business, for those who couldn't read the complicated language used for the process. He'd reached a few settlements, all connected by the nearest village. 

He'd fallen into a steady rhythm over the course of the past 6 years, he didn't think about what he left behind so much. He couldn't really remember, having spent most early nights drowning the memories out in 60 proof bottles. 

He didn't notice the blond kid that blitzed through the small town with two friends hot on his tail. He didn't notice the ram horns that poked out from under a green hood. 

He'd reunited with Alex too, who had some choice words to say about him giving up his kids, but in the end recognized that each boy was undoubtably living a better life now with families that could better support them. 

Things were okay for him now.

—————

He didn't know why he agreed to this. He hadn't left him town in since he moved there, he was comfortable, he liked the area. It was safe. 

But a friend he'd made about two years ago who had been coming and going between their land and another area, asked him to come visit where him and his family had been living for a bit. Some of their other friends were invited too, but they decided to visit at a later date, currently being busy. 

So it was just him, sitting in a small train that he didn't even know ran through the area. 

"You look a little nervous, Schlatt." Said the other man as he turned from the window to him. Of course he was nervous.

"You know I haven't left home in like fucking 12 years, asshole." The other man just laughed, used to the vulgar language by now.

"Well you've already met Tommy, you'll meet Tubbo too finally once we get there, and the friends they've made." He remembered meeting Tommy well, the kid was about 14 and already swore like a sailor, he was obnoxiously British too. Schlatt cringed at the memory. 

"I dunno, Wilbur, if Tubbo's anything like that Tommy kid I'm probably gonna fucking leave early. One of them was bad enough."

"Tubbo's more quiet than Tommy, he had trouble speaking as a kid when we adopted him, so I figure that's why, he's just as energetic though." Wilbur laughed, knowing Schlatt's distaste for both kids and British people.

Schlatt suspected Wilbur was dragging him along just to make him suffer. 

But the train stopped and they got out, making the rest of the way by foot just as the sun started to rise high in the sky and burn away all the undead creatures hidden in the tall grass. 

The area was small, reminiscent of his home from when he first settled there.

He met Tommy again, who, like the last time they had met, took to following him and Wilbur around incessantly, accompanied by a smaller kid named Tubbo, who he'd learnt was actually older despite his more demure behaviour. The kid was still rowdy and loud though. 

The kid had small ram horns poking out of the top of his head, resembling Schlatt's own from when he was a child himself. It didn't go unnoticed. 

The dots, however, remained unconnected. 

It was on the second day when things took a turn. A young man, reportedly named Dream, had returned from a trip he had taken, only to find him walking with Wilbur and the two kids down what was called the Prime Path. 

Dream didn't look very pleased to see a man he didn't know on his land. 

So the two had gone into a forest to talk alone.

"I don't want you coming back here, Jonathan Schlatt." The masked man spoke, large Netherite axe clutched tightly by his side. Schlatt could tell this was no request. 

How did the man know his name?

Then the axe swung, the quick movement knocking the green hood of the owner's head. Schlatt caught a glimpse of horns akin to his own before everything went dark.

He woke up in his house, the light all off and everything dark. Within minutes, someone was banging on the door. 

The door opened, alerting him that it was likely Alex who was on the other side, and soon his best friend stood at the end of his bed, questions plaguing his eyes. 

"I think I just saw... No, no fucking way."

"Who did you see?" Alex asked, sitting himself down on top of the dark blue comforter.

"Clay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhat shorter update :3 sorry this one took me longer i just wasn't really in a writing mood and more of a reading one lol
> 
> anyways follow me on twitter if you want @k_odzukens UwU


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rise and fall of the empire.

Things went back to normal pretty quickly, he'd left Clay behind for a reason, and now after all these years, he wasn't going to jeopardize himself or the life he'd let Clay lead on his own. 

He was, at the very least, glad to know that his son had grown up well, strong. Could hold his own, didn't take any bullshit from anyone. Someone with the Schlatt name would be destined to carry those same traits. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he didn't carry them much himself. He only like to think he did.

But he let his life return to normal, back to running his business, back to finding himself at the bottom of a bottle every night.

It got worse when people started leaving, leaving to move where Wilbur was. Alex, Niki... Niki didn't surprise him, not one bit, her and Wilbur were two peas in a pod, best friends if you will. Alex did though. Alex who had been by his side for as long as he could remember, who'd only left him once for important family business. He was leaving. Sure, he'd promised to come visit often, but it wasn't the same. 

Thank God for Minx, otherwise he probably would have been even more of a mess than he already was. But it wasn't the same. Yeah, she'd been there to put the cap back on the bottle, and she'd been there to haul his ass back to his bed, then she'd crash on his couch to make sure he wasn't dead in the morning. She was his best friend, and the one person he could truly trust to not let him go too far. But it still wasn't the same, they both knew that. Both felt the void of their best friends who had left for somewhere new.

Then he left her too.

He'd been called on for aid in an election. He wasn't the same man that they'd known before though, something had twisted down the line, a cruelty in him that he'd unknowingly unlocked somewhere along the line. 

No politician was kind. He'd become a man who was unkind. 

He won the election, and thus his reign of terror began.

—————

Death wasn't something he'd expected. He knew it was coming, sure. But he didn't really expect it. He remembered every moment that led up to it.

He remembered Alex meeting him the night before, a hard and cold look in his eyes. He remembered the words he said too.

"Schlatt, I followed you through this because I thought you could do something great, but now I know more than anything, that you've become the exact person you swore to me you'd never be so long ago." A picture was thrown down onto the table that stood between them. "You'll die tomorrow, Pogtopia is coming for your head. When the light leaves your eyes, remember what mattered once, what you left behind to be the monster in front of me today."

Then, for a final time Alex left him. For good this time.

The picture of the desk was old, warped around the edges and folded, as if it had been kept in a wallet for a long time, thumbed over on late nights. It featured two men, a baby, and a boy who couldn't have been older than 10. He recognized the men instantly, it was himself and Alex, years younger than they were now. The boy he knew to be Clay, small horns already poking out of his head, just like his had as a child. The baby he didn't recognize so much, a vague memory from so long ago he'd drowned out of his mind as best he could. 

He couldn't think about it though, he had a different meeting to attend to. 

"Is it wise to meet with your enemy before he plots to kill you?" His son, the young boy in the photo, stood before him. 

"I won't die if you help me." He retaliated, he couldn't pull the father card, he wasn't that low. He could, however, offer something else, much more valuable.

"The book you mentioned, wouldn't that be of more use to you?"

"I can't use it if I'm dead." It was all he'd had left of his valuables, his last resort if he wanted his life to go on. 

"So you give me the book, and I'll help you. If you die, you want me to use it, right?" He couldn't see behind the mask, but he could tell easily that the look on the other man's face was one of skepticism. 

"Exactly right." He slid the book over the desk, grabbing the picture as he drew his hand back. 

"What's with the picture?" The other man asked casually as he picked up the book.

"Something Quackity left for me, here." So he tossed the picture back on the desk for Clay to look at. "You might recognize yourself from when you were a kid." They weren't shy about the relationship they had, but they weren't father and son, not really, Schlatt had let go of that right, what they had now was just business.

Clay picked up the picture, examining it closely. "Who's the baby? I don't remember them."

"Your little brother, his name was..." He had to stop and think for a moment, recall the memories he'd spent so long trying to forget. "Toby, his name was Toby."

"Oh, like Techno and Wilbur's little brother."

"No, that's Tommy."

"The other one, Tubbo, his real name is Toby. What a weird coincidence." Clay dropped the picture back on the desk, then left with the book. "I'll see you tomorrow, Schlatt." He called over his shoulder, then that stupid mask and netherite armour was out of his office, finally. 

"Yeah... Weird coincidence." Schlatt muttered to himself as he picked up the picture again, and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. 

Now, as he had everyone stood over him, waiting to take his final life, he let his life flash before his eyes, all the things he'd forgotten. He looked up to the kid he knew was his, then to Alex, then to Wilbur, then to Tubbo. Tubbo, the kid he'd had executed, Tubbo the kid with horns just like his own, and the same brown hair to match. 

He thought of the picture that still lay in his jacket pocket. Of the family he could have had once upon a time.

He spit his last words, then collapsed. 

The life of Jonathan Schlatt was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no more schlatt perspective WOOHOO   
> ding dong, the wicked bitch is dead
> 
> anyways i changed all my usernames recently ! so if you'd like to catch me on twitter now, you can find me @ PH4NT0MHQ


End file.
